


the crown and those behind it

by BlackJacketsandPens



Series: Ardyn Yescon Week 2k18 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn YesCon Week, F/M, M/M, Multi, and the bonus round "how upset must ardyn be in present day" if you want angst, but angst is for tomorrow, king ardyn lucis caelum and his polyamorous lovepile, let's play "how many parallels are there in ardyn's inner circle"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:36:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens
Summary: Ardyn Yescon Week 2018, Day 3 - "Past"An upcoming coronation means the king to be -- the Chosen King, really, finally taking the throne now that he's of age -- has his doubts, his fears, his anxieties. But the thing he forgets: he's not alone.





	the crown and those behind it

The day was fast approaching -- looming on the horizon not necessarily like a bad thing, but...everyone in the Citadel knew things would change. The regent had passed away earlier in the year, and with his son, the Chosen King, finally of an age to rule himself...well, it was time for Ardyn Lucis Caelum to take his throne properly. He’d been waiting for the moment since he was six years old, and the gods had come to his father in the wake of the War and rewarded his heroism with a crown upon the head of his child. One too heavy for a boy not yet grown, so his father had taken it to hold until he was ready. Not the king, but a regent.

Now he would be king, and Ardyn was...afraid. Not of-- well, okay, of the responsibility. He’d been prepared for that, prepared for what he’d have to do, and hell, he’d had a taste of it only four years ago when he’d made a covenant with Titan to catch that meteor, but it was still terrifying even if he was half sure he could hold the weight. What if he didn’t-- what if he wasn’t ready? What if he let everyone down? What if-- there were so many what ifs, it was driving him mad. All the rehearsals of speeches, the preparation for the trip he and Stella would make, a pilgrimage to the other Astrals to gain their covenants along with their blessing now that it was time…he was exhausted and scared and he hated being so stressed out. He could barely muster his usual good cheer.

Except...today had been quiet. _Weirdly_ quiet. Pyrrhus hadn’t come looking for him to get him to look over paperwork or read something or decide something for the ceremony or even to get him out of bed at all. He’d been in his chambers, he knew that, because he’d left breakfast -- and even that was weird, because breakfast had apparently been some sweet bread and his favorite yoghurt with honey, which was not at all what his Hand usually made him eat. Sweets were for dessert, not actual meals, after all. Something was definitely going on.

But he’d figure that out after he slept the rest of the day, so long as no one came to drag him out of bed by his feet. (That had happened before.)

He was woken that evening -- the sunset was bleeding through his window and dyeing his room all its colors -- by someone jumping on top of him with a laugh. He yelped and wiggled around helplessly, pushing at the form, and only knew one hand had smacked their face when the attacker nipped his finger and giggled. “Wake up, wake up!” He said, and Ardyn groaned, a smile in his voice.

“Hermes,” he said, shoving at his best friend again. “Get off. I can’t get up if you’re sitting on me!”

The blond grinned down at him, leaning in to steal a few kisses. “I know that,” he said teasingly. “I’ll get up when I’m good and ready.” 

“Little thief,” Ardyn told him with a laugh, wrapping arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his freckles. God, he loved Hermes. How long had they known each other, now? Ardyn had been-- twelve, he thinks, when they met. A little king out in the city, nearly tripping over a scruffy blond boy hiding alone in an alley, starving and wounded. Oh, Gil had hated it when he’d brought the boy with him back to the Citadel -- not that he could blame him, in retrospect it had been ridiculously dangerous -- but he’d changed his tune soon enough.

It had been in this very room, Ardyn thought. He’d slept right through it, waking up to Gil’s shouts and realizing there were several dead bodies that were not his men, and Hermes was there with a knife and ice in blue eyes. Anti-Lucian dissidents, some of those small groups that were still clinging to the memory of Solheim and hating the gods and their ordained king -- they’d tried to hire Hermes’ family, his band of thieves and actors, to kill him, the blond had explained. But his family was loyal, and so had refused and been slaughtered. Meeting the young king hadn’t been planned, but he knew the dissidents might strike -- and he couldn’t let anything happen. Ardyn was his king, his _friend_ , and Hermes swore then to be the knife in the dark where Ardyn couldn’t see or reach. The weight at his back, where Gil stood at his front.

But he was far too bright to remain at Ardyn’s back, and the two were friends fire-forged, as was he and the rest of his inner circle. The smile, the blond hair, the personality almost as sunny as Ardyn’s own-- he charmed most of the Citadel (and charmed his way into more than a few beds), and he’d charmed his way into Ardyn’s heart, too. Certainly they’d never made love -- well, they’d tried, but couldn’t get far without dissolving into giggles -- but their hearts belonged to each other all the same. Whose bed Hermes was in didn’t matter, because his heart was always with his king.

And he was in Ardyn’s bed right now, anyway. “Okay, okay,” Hermes said with a laugh, stealing another kiss before sliding off him. “They’ll kill me if I steal all your time. Come on, we have a surprise for you.”

“Oh!” Ardyn lit up, sliding out of bed with him and taking his hand. “Oh, is that why I got to sleep in? You sneaky bastards!” He leaned over to kiss Hermes’ cheek, grinning. “I can’t wait.”

A surprise? That was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and-- already he felt some of the knots of stress in his chest untangle. They were doing this for him, and...oh, _Six_ , he loved them.

Hermes led him down one of the Soltech moving platforms, one of the only conceits from the old kingdom they’d kept, to one of the lower floors. He wasn’t sure what was on this one, aside from meeting rooms and the like, but...well, he’d find out. The halls were the same here as everywhere, black and white marble and white pillars, a different sort of style entirely from Solheim, softer and simpler, and Hermes turned down one more and grinned, waving. “Pyr, I’ve got him!”

Pyrrhus smiled. “So I see,” the Hand said, opening his arms to his king. “Glad to see you decided not to monopolize his attention entirely, Hermes. Good evening, Ardyn.”

Hermes stuck his tongue out at the man, slipping past him into the room, and Ardyn beamed, closing the distance and wrapping his arms around Pyrrhus’ waist, kissing his nose and leaning against him. “Thank you for breakfast and letting me sleep,” he said fondly. “I know how hard for you it must have been to let me do that.”

“You have _no_ idea,” Pyrrhus said dryly, adjusting his glasses so his king didn’t knock them loose. “You’d best expect double the work tomorrow, though, but for today…” He smiled, leaning to kiss him gently. “For today, the day was yours, my liege.”

Ardyn just grinned. His Hand was so good to him, honestly. Even when he was a fussy, bossy stick in the mud. He hadn’t expected to have one at all, really, didn’t even quite get the concept, but when he’d been fourteen, this fifteen year old boy with dark floppy hair and green eyes behind spectacles had turned up, introducing himself as Pyrrhus Tiresias, his Hand. Apparently he’d decided to take up the position on his own, harassing his noble parents (who were on his father’s council, apparently) until they arranged it with his father. He’d been slightly annoyed that it had all been behind his back, but...well, they’d ended up getting on. Even if it had taken a while.

But when he’d run off to treat with Titan -- without telling anyone, which hadn’t exactly been the best idea, but it had all worked out -- Pyrrhus had single-handedly kept everyone else from falling apart, and between that and the impromptu three-month road trip Ardyn had dragged everyone on for bonding purposes? He knew his inner circle were as inseparable from each other as they were from him.

Like the rest, it had been impossible for Pyrrhus to escape the charm and charisma of the king, and like the rest it had been impossible for Ardyn’s bonfire heart to keep from loving his wise and sarcastic and caring and intense Hand. Pyrrhus held no desire for lovemaking, not for him or anyone, but-- that had nothing to do with one’s heart. “You’re the best, Pyr,” Ardyn said fondly, kissing him properly this time and stepping away. 

“I know I am,” his Hand said airily, and then put his hand on Ardyn’s back. “Come on, now. Your surprise awaits.”

The room had been rearranged accordingly-- the table and chairs had been dragged aside, and a few blankets had been spread about on the floor, plates piled with treats and at least two or three amphora of wine. Ardyn’s face lit up, and Hermes grinned at him from his spot on the floor. “Welcome to your coronation party, ‘dyn,” he said teasingly. “Surprise!”

“You sneaks!” Ardyn said happily, stress untangling another few inches. “All this behind my back?” 

“Well, how else would it be a surprise?” His Shield asked, standing and coming over to him, Pyrrhus moving to ease himself down next to Hermes. “Couldn’t exactly tell you what we were doing, birdbrain.”

Ardyn stuck his tongue out at the taller man, but then leapt at him to kiss him soundly. “That’s no way to talk to your king, Gilgamesh Amicitia,” he teased, lips still against the other man’s. “Now apologize.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Gilgamesh said, red-brown eyes alight with amusement, and kissed him again, dipping him dramatically just for the hell of it and making everyone else in the room laugh. 

Ardyn laughed into the kiss, too, beaming that sunshine smile of his. “Apology accepted,” he said breathlessly once he was righted, and his Shield rolled his eyes, adjusting his white ponytail and trying not to look just as breathless. 

Really, he couldn’t remember a time when Gil wasn’t at his side. He’d been named his Shield almost as soon as he’d been named Chosen King -- a guard for the little king, eight years his senior, and though they hadn’t gotten along at first (who would, a fourteen year old who’d already seen war firsthand forced to babysit a six year old?) it...well, the scar on Gil’s face, from his right ear to nearly across the bridge of his nose, and the attack it came from? That was the mark of when it had changed. Ardyn didn’t know when Gil had fallen in love with him, but Ardyn almost couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t adored the older boy, tall and strong and brave, with bronze skin and pale hair and those lovely dark eyes. 

Everyone in the inner circle had always known that as deep as Ardyn’s love ran for them, Gilgamesh was almost like the other half of his soul. Even the Shield’s father arranging a marriage hadn’t changed anything: his wife, Jasmina, was a good woman with a sharp tongue and a steel spine, who had no romantic interest in anyone whatsoever. She befriended them all quickly, and was well aware where her husband’s heart truly lay -- and that was fine with her. For his father’s sake, the couple had three children now (and Ardyn _adored_ them, spoiling them rotten any chance he could get), and they were loved by their parents deeply, but they were only dear friends, nothing more. 

Gil moved to sit down again, tugging Ardyn with him, and the last member of their group leaned against him from her spot on his other side. “Don’t I get a kiss, too?” She asked teasingly, twining her pale hand in his. “I almost feel left out.”

“I could never forget you!” Ardyn said with a laugh, turning to cup Stella Nox Fleuret’s face in his hands and kiss her warmly. “You know I love you, Stells.”

The Oracle smiled at him. “I know,” she said, kissing his nose. “I love you, too.”

His Oracle...Six, he’d known her forever, too. Her mother had supported his father during the war, and even fought alongside him once her husband had died. And for her own courage, like his father’s, her five year-old daughter had been named the first Oracle. The woman who would speak to the gods, give their messages to the people and her king. Conduit of their blessings and their words, as the Chosen King was the world and the Crystal’s guardian. 

They’d all but grown up together, he and Stella, though her mother had taken her across the sea when she was eight, to set up a sanctuary upon the other continent. She’d gotten back recently with her mother’s death, leaving her trusted advisors in charge of her sanctuary to join her king as he took the throne. They’d kept in touch all the years apart, though, Ardyn using his beloved birds as messengers -- alongside, of course, her _actual_ Messenger, Eglantine -- to communicate despite the distance. They’d loved each other all that time, too. If Gil owned half of Ardyn’s soul, Stella as the other half; his heart burned bright enough to fit all four of this best beloveds, fit his younger brother, fit his whole kingdom, but his soul belonged entirely to his Oracle and his Shield. And their hearts, all four of them, belonged to this king with fire in his hair and the entire sun in his smile.

“I love you guys,” Ardyn said suddenly, squeezing Stella’s hand and leaning against Gil. “Did you know I was…?”

Pyrrhus smiled over the wine he was pouring. “Did we know you’ve been running yourself in circles with worry over the coronation?” He asked. “Of course we did. We know you, and we’re meant to notice that sort of thing. So yes, we knew, and yes, that’s why we set this up.”

“You’ve been so stressed out,” Hermes said, smiling at him. “We thought you could use a day to relax, and...well, this.” He leaned forward to put his hand on Ardyn’s. “We’re here for you, ‘dyn, you know that.”

“Yes,” Pyrrhus said, sliding the cups over to everyone. “We are. You do not sit the throne alone, Ardyn. We are always beside you, and we carry the weight together.”

Ardyn grabbed the cup of wine and took a long drink to hide the tears in his eyes. “We do, don’t we?” He said quietly. “I’m not on my own, never have been.”

“Of course not, birdbrain,” Gilgamesh said affectionately, kissing his cheek. “Why would you ever think otherwise? We’ll be here for you, every day the rest of our lives. You’ll never rule alone, not when you have us. It’s our jobs, true, but...we’d be here even if it wasn’t.” 

“That’s true,” Stella said. “We love you, Ardyn. We all do, and we’ll always be by your side.”

Well, now he really was crying, and the other four moved to envelop him in a hug, kissing him wherever they could manage. “You’re all the best,” he managed after a second, wrapping his arms around Gil and Stella. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Be completely unable to take care of yourself?” Pyrrhus said dryly, and Ardyn groaned as the others laughed. 

“That or get himself killed somehow,” Gilgamesh said. “I mean, who else is going to drag him out of the jaws of every beast he thinks is somehow worth petting?”

Ardyn groaned again, burying his face in his Shield’s shoulder. “You’re all terrible,” he said, but he was beaming. “Who else would catch me when I jump out of windows?” He added.

“Kings don’t jump out windows,” Gilgamesh told him firmly. “For the _two hundredth_ time.”

They laughed again, and broke the hug after a few more minutes to eat and drink their celebratory dinner. The knots of fear and self-doubt in Ardyn’s chest were gone, he realized, and that was-- he never should have been afraid. He wasn’t alone, and he never had been. He would rule well, and he would rule with the people he loved most in the whole world by his side. There was no reason to be scared.

There never had been, and never would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my own personal hell, aka Ardyn's Poly Lovepile. I never intended it to end up like that? But then Ardyn basically straight up went "no, no, they're all mine, i'm in love with all of them" and it spiraled. 
> 
> Pyrrhus and Hermes are...they're good people. And I hope the parallels are obvious, because i'm really genuinely intending for those to be there. Blond friend, bespectacled Hand, Amicitia Shield...yep. Yep. And of course, the Oracle! It's epically tragic, I know, but for now? For now it's...it's happy. They're happy and in love, and it's the sweetest thing, and I had so much fun writing this. Like seriously, I couldn't stop smiling.
> 
> (2000 years later, Ardyn proves Pyrrhus right and cannot take care of himself at all without them.)  
> (Also if you get the joke in Pyr's last name you get ten internet cookies.)


End file.
